Not really. Tired, though. Being the last guy to show up means I get the couch, meaning I get to wake up at 2:30 AM when the guys come back from the Slamdance party to tell me about the NYC punk band composed entirely of half naked ladies.
Or something like that. Like I said, I was tired.
My 9:00 AM screening of The Motorcycle Diaries crapped out. Press credentials only carry you so far, apparently. So I'm wasting time here before trying to check out a screener...which would seem to eliminate the need to go to the theater at all. But then I'd be missing that theater experience. Or something.
Saw a great documentary on the history and future of corporations called, wittily enough, The Corporation, and a German comedy called Good Bye Lenin!. With a name like that, and being German, how can it not be funny? Reviews will be posted on the Film Threat web site presently.
Park City on a Saturday night is a madhouse. I would've tried to duck into a bar for a quick drink before heading back, except all of them had such lines I half expected Steve Rubell to come out and tell me to go back to Jersey.
Oh (and this one's for you, HWRNMNBSOL), and I got held back from walking on the sidewalk by big, beefy security guys so Minnie Driver and her entourage/groupies could go into the Ghostbar. Only 15 feet away! No time to snap a picture, but I did manage to tell her she was the bomb in Goldeneye, yo.
Speaking of pics, as soon as I can log some time on the phone line at the condo, I'll try to get some posted.
Attaboy, Pete! Hurl those scathing witticisms into the teeth of the glitterati! Full speed ahead and damn the entourage!
Naw, dispensing with the harshness, I'm proud of you and your big gig. I hope you see some good films and also some bad ones that can be lampooned with eclat. And if Fallon really borrows your saltshaker, you make sure you screw the top on firmly before you try to use it. That guy's a caution.